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****** energy, invade me.
Permeate through my skin.
Sipping on sin
And tasting all the places
Weve been.

****** energy, encase me.
Cover me in tongue.
Lust filled lungs
Breathe heavy til I come
Undone.

****** energy, envelope me.
Consume me in your grip.
Sip on my lips
And seal me with your
fingertips

****** energy, enter me.
Arrive inside of me to find
My melting mind
Cascading into rivers,
At the bed side.
Mica Light Nov 4
Hiding. She's
Trying. I keep her
Confined.

Sleeping. She's
Weeping. She screams out her
Cries.

Falling. She's
Calling. There's pain in her
Eyes.

Dormant. She's
Latent. She feels
Paralyzed.

Shifting. She's
Drifting. But I keep her
Inside.

Uneasy. She's
Queasy. Yet I
Minimize.

Refracted. She's
Lasted. She cant be
Denied.

Bleeding. She's
Seeking. To be
Recognized.

Unwitting. I'm
Splitting. I say my
Goodbyes.

Heating. It's
Fleeting. My old peace of
Mind.

Conquered. I'm
Anchored. I'm treading
Neck-high.

Drowning. Heart
Pounding. My sight going
Blind.

Vehement. Not
Present. I am losing my
Pride.

Engaging. I'm
Raging. She's loud from
Inside.

Neurotic. I'm
seasick. From pain left
Behind.

Messy. We're
Heavy. There's blood on our
Lies.

Damage. I
Manage. This fall from up
High.

Numbness. Crave
Oneness. This banal state,
Mine.

Transgressing. Keep
shedding. And I'll find her
Smile.

Uplifting. Deep
Thinking. I tame what is
Wild.

           Releasing and healing
                     My own inner-child.

      
☼ Mica Light
Sometimes she comes gently. Sometimes she comes with force.

Vehement: marked by extreme intensity of emotions or convictions; inclined to react violently; fervid
Banal: obvious and dull; repeated too often; overfamiliar through overuse
Splitting: a commonly used defense mechanism for people with BPD that is done subconsciously in an attempt to protect against intense negative feelings such as loneliness, abandonment and isolation; sees in 'black and white'; no 'grey area'
Mica Light Oct 7
The ground is always trembling.
Bound to break beneath me.

A constant storm is brewing.
Don't know when it could release.

My body seeking safety.
There is no where to go.

The energy within me
is shaking, screaming "no".

Pressure from the inside out.
Skin bursting at the seams.

No wonder I am overwhelmed,
If this is how it's always been.

Mica Light
When there's nothing to do, no where to be, nothing I truly need... Why is that such a hard state for me to be?
Mica Light Oct 2
In the morning
The sky
Is so beautiful.
The wind
sways the trees
And urges me
to dance.
The sun's rays
Shine with clarity
And the birds' songs
Invite the light.

I am at peace.

So.. I can be.

But,

Sometimes...

Oh no.
Did you hear it?
There's a whispering.
It's a trap.
There's no way.
There's no chance.

There it is again,
That fear.
The storm -
Here it comes.
Buckle down.
Id better hide.
Quick, try.
Before it
sweeps me
up too high...

But there's
No time.
It's here.
Strong and
Loud.
And not slowly,
But
Instantly,
It sweeps
Me
Up.

I am thrown in.
I am lost within
A black space
With no boundary.
I've forgotten
How to
Function.

I scream.
I collapse.
I cry.
I destroy.
I despise
Every bit
of myself.
And, still
I don't know
The way out of here.

The storm -
It thrusts
And sways.
Unsettles
And circulates.
Until it can
No longer
Keep up
With demands.

The perpetual motion
Slows down
And the winds
Begin to calm.
But the black
Smokey fog
Doesn't leave.

The dust
begins to settle
On top packages
Of self doubt,
Shame,
Guilt,
And worthlessness.

I am left
Resenting
Only myself.
For not doing better.
For being a burden
of a person.

...

I am so angry
Because
The sky
Was so beautiful today.
And so was I.
But I wasn't bigger
Than the storm.

Not this time.

• Mica Light •
This poem reflects how my morning can go into a complete hell so quickly, I dont know how I even got there.
Mica Light Jan 5
She carries the weight,
As she tries to walk straight.
She cannot help but seethe.

Treading through mud,
And emotional blood.
Constantly trying to breathe.

The pain that she felt,
From the cards she was dealt -
Not knowing the reasons why.

The tears she would weep,
From a sadness so deep,
That echoes and amplifies.

For the rest of her life,
At the edge of a knife -
The slightest movement will ****.

"Keep calm. Keep steady.
Get with it already."
Or all that's distasteful will spill.

Behind all her mystery,
Is sadness and misery -
A truth she wants no one to find.

"She's magic" they'll say,
Before they run astray.
To this madness they won't be confined.

She will never be risen,
For her body's a prison,
Her mind, a bitter disease.

But they have a choice.
Without her, they'll rejoice.
They can live however they please.

Her soul is tired; heart is spent.
- Generational Torment -
Seeping from the past into each day.

Sifting through; righting what's wrong.
Hoping that her love is strong,
Enough for all the pain to be repaid.

Maybe one day, finally
A healed being she will be.
It's all she ever wanted all along.

She can't run from this existence,
But perhaps with some persistence,
Maybe she can finally belong.

She cries for you, she cries for me.
She cries for every long lost being.
She just wants the suffering to end.

A lineage of damage
On her plate to manage -
A lifetime of work to transcend.

Look past the hurt, beyond the pain.
It is clear what still remains:
The beginnings of a budding lotus flower.

This is nature, seeking nurture.
To this earth she needs an anchor.
This is the beginning of her power.

~ ☼ ~
To healing. To responsibility. To connection.
Mica Light Aug 2020
The streets are full
With wandering souls.
The night sounds harsh
Lonely and cold.

I sit in silence...
Until it's broken by sirens.

Drunken drivers
Spin their tires
Windows open
Yelling, smokin.

Cats in heat.
Loud men who beat.
Hookers standing
Waiting, dancing.

Music pumping
Pulsing, thumping
Sloppy walking
Barely talking

Wandering, sleeping
Carrying all they're keeping
Searching for a quiet place
Tonight to call a safe space

....

The streets are empty
Of the love they need
The night needs light
So the dark can take flight

I sit in my safety...
I love my home greatly

Palace of peace
Hear the birds cheep
Plants thriving
Delicious dining

Crystals are blessing
Oils diffusing
My air is clean
My heart is keen

Love surrounds me
In the people with me
I guess I am lucky
I suppose i am free

The world makes me wonder
Thoughts brew like thunder
But forever I will always know
How grateful i am to live and grow.

....

In this privilege of mine,
my wellness i sow.

....
#downtown #late-night #contemplation #poem #poetry #micalightpoetry
Mica Light Mar 2020
It is here, in this space,
When I feel most at ease.
I am not quite awake,
Yet not quite in a dream.

There is warmth around my body.
There is quiet in my mind.
My feet, they rub together.
Your lips, my mouth will find.

This is our querencia;
A place so safe for us.
I worry not of troubles.
I am only filled with trust.

It is here, I am at peace.
It is here, I am most safe.
Because nothing can break through,
The dream space we create.

I want to stay forever.
Please, can we never leave?
The sun is sure to come,
But with you, I want to be.

It is here, I am insouciant.
It is here, I can escape.
All the hardships of my life,
There is nothing it can take.

For here, I am protected.
I am safe in your embrace.
Together, falling in and out.
This dreaming-waking place.
Dormiveglia:the.space.that.stretches.between.sleeping.and.waking.
Querencia:a.place.where.one.feels.safe;a.place.from.which.one's.strength.of.character.is.drawn.
Insouciant:free.from.worry.concern.or.anxiety.
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